The Other Side

Chapter 3

Lenore had paused at the low fence around the graveyard's edge, turning back to see if her Gran was following like she had said she would. She was, and she wasn't too far behind, even going at her own pace. She waved at Lenore. "Don't worry," she had called to her. "I'm a'coming. You go on ahead. You know the way."

Lenore smiled and waved back before crossing the graveyard's boundary and making her way between the stones. Her grandmother had been right about this, too. She did know the way. She knew it well, and if she didn't, well, the grass had been beaten down from their many visits, forming a new little path. It led around the side of the mausoleum and over to the far corner, coming to a stop in front of a familiar headstone. It was much newer and straighter than the ones surrounding it, having been recently placed.

"Hi Gramps!" Lenore had cheered at the sight of it. "I brought you flowers!" She dropped her armful of flowers atop onto the grass and set to work. She cleared away the old flowers—left from their last visit—and tossed them onto the empty spot next to his solitary grave. Then she carefully arranged the new bouquet in a tidy pile at the base of his headstone.

By the time she had finished, her grandmother had caught up. "That looks lovely, Lenore," she had said. "Good job."

Lenore beamed up at her.

Her grandmother placed the picnic basket down and pulled the blanket off the top, an old patchwork quilt. She spread it out on the ground, right over top of the grave, as if they were tucking her grandpa in for the night.

Lenore plopped herself down on it. "Gran, why do we have picnics with Gramps?" she had asked. "It's not like he can eat anything."

Her Gran had just laughed as she sat down, too. She beckoned to Lenore, who crawled across the blanket to sit by her grandmother's side. Her grandmother smiled down at her as she tucked Lenore's hair behind her ears.

"Because he's still with us," she had said. "Our loved and lost are always with us."

In the present, Lenore was now standing at that same grave. The cemetery looked much more grim in the shadow of the impending storm. And now, her grandfather's headstone was no longer alone. In the empty spot beside it, a new opening had been carved out of the earth, ready for her grandmother.

Staring down into the cavernous hole, Lenore felt her eyes well with tears. She tried to blink them away, but that just forced them to spill over and slide down her cheeks.

"Is that true, Gran?" she said aloud, thinking of her memory as the wind flitted around her, blowing away her tears. "Are you still with me?"

Overhead, there was a flash and the angry clouds out a sharp crack of thunder. And with that, the sky opened.

Lenore shrank under the sudden deluge. "Shit!" That had not been quite the answer she had been looking for.

She scanned the cemetery, looking for shelter. The naked trees would provide little cover, but she could run back to the house... Only she didn't want to. Going back to the house meant seeing her parents and talking to her mother. She shuddered—half from cold, half from disgust—and glanced around for something, anything, better than that.

Her gaze landed on the mausoleum. Its rusted gate was open, just a crack.

She didn't have a better choice. The rain was really coming down now. Besides, the dead were sure to be better company than whoever was waiting for her at the house. She ran towards it and threw herself inside.

Inside, the mausoleum was cool and dark but, thankfully, dry. Lenore had only come in here a few times, mostly out of childhood curiosity, and it didn't seem like much had changed. Unlike the outside, the interior was lavishly decorated, as if those laid to rest here needed something nice to look at. The stone walls, half in shadow, had an intricate design of leaves and vines carved into their surface. And there was a beautiful stained glass window set into the ceiling, though the light it pulled in was grey and dingy from the storm outside. In the centre of the small room was a large raised tomb, its marble top dusted with stray leaves blown in through gaps of the rusted gate.